In a significant turn of events, a ceasefire declaration was announced, bringing a wave of complex emotions to the regions of southeast Turkey and northern Iraq. These areas have been significantly impacted by the prolonged conflict between Kurdish militants and the Turkish government, which has lasted for four decades. The announcement has the potential to provide a major advantage to President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s administration. This move followed a recent call from the militants’ imprisoned leader urging the group to lay down arms.
In Diyarbakir, Turkey’s largest city in the predominantly Kurdish southeast, individuals who had endured personal losses due to the conflict expressed skepticism toward the Turkish government’s intentions. Despite the ceasefire declaration from the Kurdistan Workers’ Party, or PKK, Turkey’s official response remains awaited.
“We don’t trust them; similar promises have been made before,” said Turkan Duman, a 56-year-old resident. She compared the current situation to a previous peace process that eventually faltered in 2015. Duman’s skepticism is rooted in personal tragedies; one of her sons is serving a 12-year prison sentence due to his involvement with the PKK. He had been detained following his participation in combat against the Islamic State group in Kobani back in 2014.
Duman’s story is intertwined with the loss of her two brothers, who were killed in clashes with Turkish security forces in the mid-2010s near Lice, the birthplace of the PKK in 1978. Another individual, Kiymet Soresoglu, belonging to the Peace Mothers’ Association, shared her concerns about the government’s motives. “We desire peace, but we are wary of possible hidden agendas,” she articulated.
Soresoglu, also in her mid-fifties, has a son who is imprisoned for PKK association, labeled a terrorist group by both Turkey and its Western partners. Her son, wounded in the downtown Sur district of Diyarbakir when the previous ceasefire collapsed a decade ago, is emblematic of the conflict’s toll. “Our history is drenched in the blood of martyrs,” she lamented.
Regarding the ceasefire, both Duman and Soresoglu voiced concerns about disarmament without concessions. “If no tangible outcomes accompany the call to disarm, we, as relatives of fighters, cannot simply comply,” Soresoglu added. Yet, their desire for peace remains strong, driven by hopes to prevent further bloodshed.
Since the PKK’s initial warfare against the Turkish state began in 1984, the conflict has claimed tens of thousands of lives. While precise statistics are elusive, estimates by the International Crisis Group suggest a toll of over 7,000 deaths since hostilities resumed in mid-2015, including civilians, security forces, and PKK militants.
This recent ceasefire followed an appeal for peace by Abdullah Ocalan, the PKK’s jailed leader. Law expert Vahap Coskun of Dicle University in Diyarbakir remarked on the ceasefire’s implications, noting the coherence between the PKK’s northern Iraq leadership and Ocalan, despite his prolonged imprisonment. This alignment marks a significant step towards potential disarmament. Unlike previous initiatives, the current peace process is marked by an urgency and precision unfamiliar to past endeavors.
Across the border in Iraq, particularly in Sulaymaniyah, the news of the ceasefire has been met with cautious optimism. This city lies in proximity to the PKK stronghold in the Qandil mountains and harbors considerable support for the PKK. Najmadin Bahaadin, a local, saw the ceasefire as a “historical moment,” showcasing a possible newfound commitment from Turkey and the PKK to peace.
However, not all are convinced. Awat Rashid expressed skepticism, questioning whether Ocalan might be under duress to advocate for peace. “Would Ocalan make the same decision if he were not imprisoned?” Rashid wondered aloud, pondering the ceasefire’s authenticity and reliance on Ocalan’s intentions.
